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"He gave you our address?"
"Is it 'cause he thinks he can turn me?"
"No." A laugh spills from my lips. "Do you think everyone wants you?"
"They do."
Another laugh. Fuck. "I don't want to laugh."
"I know. I'm trying hard, here."
The limo pulls from the curb. I rest my head against the window. Close my eyes. "I've spent more time in a car the last month than the rest of my life combined."
"The mansion is too fucking far from the city," he says. "I thought that when I was fifteen. I know it now."
"You don't stay there?" I ask.
"Fuck no. Moved out the second I could. I have places to go."
"It's just Adam?"
He nods. "He moved back after the accident. At first, because we could fit an entire medical suite in the place. Then because he couldn't face people. The way they stared. The whispers."
It is horrible, people thinking he killed his brother.
And this thing with Fitzgerald.
It was to make him jealous.
But why?
Why would Adam do that? Unless—
"He's still so handsome," I say. "I can't believe he doesn't see it."
"But he does, Danielle. He's different now."
He is?
"I've known Adam a long time. Twenty-seven years now. And the guy I've seen the last year… that's not Adam. That's a shell of Adam. With you, he's awake and alive and… happy."
God, I want him to be happy.
I shouldn't. He lied to me. He used me. He treated me like a fucking pawn.
How can I still want his happiness this much?
"He cares about you," Liam says. "If I know anything, I know that."
"How?"
"It's fucking obvious. To anyone who looks at him. He spent an hour in a crowded room, full of people staring, for you."
"To make Fitzgerald jealous."
"Was Fitzgerald there?"
"No," I admit.
"So how was he making him jealous?"
"But the photos—"
"Maybe he had some idiotic plan. I don't know the details. But I know he cares about you. And you care about him."
I do.
"Whatever this is, is it really bigger than that?"
I don't know.
I can understand why he did this.
Hell, my heart breaks for him.
But can I forgive him?
Can I ever trust him again?
Can I believe he isn't using me?
That, I can't answer.
Chapter Forty-Three
Adam
All night, my phone buzzes.
All night, I ignore it.
I can't answer to my brothers.
I can't offer Danielle enough to fix this.
She's right.
I used her.
I hid the truth.
I lied.
Yes, I had my reasons, but they're excuses. She deserved the truth, and I was too cowardly to give it to her.
All night, sleep eludes me.
In the morning, I rise, dress, fall into my routine. Two laps around the grounds. An hour of weight training. Stretching. A shower.
Usually, the workout feels like penance. The ache of cold air against my cheeks in the winter. The pain of the humid sun in the summer. This physical discomfort channeled into something productive.
Today, it feels normal.
Difficult, yes, but routine.
This is how I trained Bash for varsity soccer. We spent more time running and less on weight training, but it was this same routine.
Early mornings, before the rest of the house was awake, no matter what he'd done the night before.
Usually, brutal exercise is a way to make sense of the pain in my heart. Make it physical. Hold it close, since it's all I have left of him.
It doesn't hurt today. Not the way it usually does.
I'm honoring him.
Maybe not the way he'd ask—no doubt, that would involve naked women—but it is something of his. Of ours.
It hits me in the shower. The tension in my jaw releases. Then my shoulders. Relief spreads through my body.
An overwhelming ease.
I barely manage to stay upright.
I love Bash.
I failed him.
I have to let it go.
Holding on to this pain isn't fair to him. It isn't honoring him.
It's selfish.
I close my eyes.
Let his voice fill my head again.
Did you really have to think of me in the shower, Adam? Could you have invited a babe first? You are going to fix shit with Danielle, aren't you? She's gorgeous AND she's a total freak. Perfect for you.
Fix that.
That's how you honor me.
The best revenge is living well.
You know what that means, don't you Mr. Broodypants? Erm. Mr. Put on those Broodypants?
It means getting laid.
Go.
Fuck her.
Love her.
Let her love you.
For me.
I love you, kid.
I'll see you in the next one.
And then I open my eyes and he's gone.
No longer a voice in my head.
No longer haunting me.
No longer protecting my heart.
The walls are down.
And if I want to make this right with Danielle, I have to keep it that way.
Chapter Forty-Four
Danielle
For two days, I hide in my room. I leave only to shower, eat, use the bathroom.
Finally, I go to the main room. Accept Remy's offer of homemade French toast and coffee and vampire soaps.
He doesn't ask about Adam. He doesn't push me to talk. He sits next to me, gushing over the hot vampire king, complaining about the lack of full-frontal male nudity, discussing the merits of going vampire for someone.
